This Winter of Discontent Segues into a New Life of Spring
Written by Jonathan Henderson
Monday November 24, 2014 @ 3:13 PM
Those trumpets now herald the dawn of a new day, for it
Shall always be the brightest, for all other days blended
To one, and if one ever dreamt the sun shall never again
Shine, well that is fine, but don't you dare sip another of
His wine - for no one told you that vino would ever be
Plucked from a vine in that Italian countryside in rustic
Lombardy and its villa and looking ever onward, nor of
The Sun King as he lived lavishly inside Versailles, only
Of history's charge of the Light Brigade until Sevastopol
Was sacked, and boy! Wasn't Nightingale sans so many
Naps as she cared for warriors whose hearts far more
Luminescent than any bar of gold bullion -and I believe
Faith dealt you a currency its riches can never exchange.
Charge! Charge! I beseech you press forth, for no good
Is ever won if not the malicious to be defied, no easy time
To pay the dime you earned, for nothing is something, and
Something shall never be nothing - 'tis the laws of nature's
God, and God is Sovereign; He grants thee His Truth to be
Acquired by the blade of a crusader, and He has faith that
You have yours, too - and look at you! The triumph shall
Be soon! Come the break of dawn or tonight's moon or
Tomorrow shall bid thee soon the reward of l'esprit
De coeur! This winter of discontent shall segue into its
Newest life of Spring, and so shall you along the road
To the next sweet lullaby song, the break of a new dawn
And a daylight infinite in its possibilities, and so it shall be.
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